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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540946">Shattered</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission'>End_Transmission</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Red Light Cyan Light [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Among Us (Video Game)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Bad Ending, Blood and Gore, Character Death, M/M, Sad Ending, Suicide</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 19:15:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,907</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29540946</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/End_Transmission/pseuds/End_Transmission</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Addison isn't coming back from his latest mission - and Trep's world is suddenly dark.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cyan/Red (Among Us)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Red Light Cyan Light [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2035972</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Shattered</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please note the tags for this one - big warning for no happy ending.</p>
<p>As a side note, oneshots like this are never canon - canonically, my characters live big happy lives. This is just a 'what if' alternate sort of situation. </p>
<p>The impact may be lost of you haven't read about these two before - I highly recommend doing that first.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>There is blood on the envelope Trep is handed. He clutches it in tight fingers as a familiar scent - blindingly familiar, even though it is old and traveled now - sweeps through him like a wave. It rocks him in place, brings a burning heat he can't name deep into his gut. It is like anger, but hotter still - it makes him want to rip, and to tear, but not outward. He wants to dig into </span>
  <em>
    <span>himself</span>
  </em>
  <span> until he can find that burning pit and extinguish it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is one thing to know that Addison is dead - but the scent of the human's blood on the envelope makes it real in a way that Trep can no longer ignore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"There is nothing else?" Trep asks, and he has to pitch his voice low to hide all the things that want to escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No. I'm sorry for your loss."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trep turns away then and ignores the human who calls his surname - a name hardly a year old and already it means nothing - and he leaves with the envelope tight in hand. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him time to open it. Instead he finds himself over and over again in the forested hills surrounding Addison's home. He stretches out into a form bigger than anything those woods can offer and he attacks. He scours great tracks into the earth, topples trees, hunts the local fauna - he makes himself stay active, because the instant he pauses he finds himself unable to do anything but think of </span>
  <em>
    <span>Addison. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Adult Impostors cannot cry - and so Trep chooses violence and when the violence doesn't help anymore he looks towards the stars and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>howls. </span>
  </em>
  <span>Sounds he's never once made rip unbidden from his maw and echo along the trees. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It is only when there comes a day when he cannot muster the energy nor will to leave their bedroom - when he stays, instead, burrowed in a cold bed still ridden with Addison's scent - that Trep finally opens the envelope. There is a letter inside, written in obvious haste but so rife with Addison's voice that Trep feels himself shatter all over again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>'What I want and what I know are two different things,' </span>
  </em>
  <span>Addison writes, </span>
  <em>
    <span>'I want you to find happiness for yourself. On earth, in the stars, or even at home. But I know better. I got what I could - use it as you see fit. I'm sorry. I love you.' </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's not a phrase they say often - that it was the last words Addison wrote almost makes Trep rip up the letter. A moment of desperate impulsivity he would have certainly regretted - so he's glad to be distracted by the other object in the envelope. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, Trep is unsure of what it is - it almost seems like trash. A bit of some kind of material that's small enough to rest in Trep's palm. A small bit of blood - more of Addison's - stains the otherwise vibrantly yellow hue. It's thicker material than Trep expects when he presses it between two fingers - and when a fresh scent shoves its way from behind Addison's, Trep all at once knows what he's holding. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The scent of the Impostor who killed Addison. A bit of the yellow suit the Impostor must have worn. The knowledge, here in Trep's hand, of who exactly was to blame for the burning pain eating away at his insides. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Finally - he knows exactly what he needs to do to ease it. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>It isn't as easy as being assigned to a single Skeld. That is a disappointment, but Trep supposes he shouldn't be surprised. MIRA's selection of crew, after all, is vast and varied - and there is no guarantee the other Impostor is even on Earth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So, Trep works instead. He finds contentment, in space - satisfaction in a kill, here and there, to defend hapless human crews who have no clue they are being hunted until the predator is found dead. Work, otherwise - leading to do and tasks to accomplish that help keep his mind busy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Addison is still there - Addison is always there. In the dark of the ships' nights, when the crew is sleeping, Trep paces restless and agitated while thoughts of what he's lost circle over and over again in his head. Still, somehow it all feels easier - Trep just can't be sure if that is from being busy, or from the calm knowing that the worst of the pain will eventually end. Addison's killer will return - Impostors always do - and if they don't, eventually Trep will simply return to his birthplace and </span>
  <em>
    <span>find </span>
  </em>
  <span>them. One way or another, he will have his claws on them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then, after a number of voyages, Trep finally finds them. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trep knows he is in the right place, on the right ship, even before the scent filters into his helmet. He couldn't have said how he knows - but it's something in his gut. A surety that is almost a </span>
  <em>
    <span>comfort - </span>
  </em>
  <span>and even knowing how ridiculous a thought it is, Trep can't help but wonder if it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>someone else </span>
  </em>
  <span>who was telling him. After all, he had refused to perform the rites that were meant to release spirits to the afterlife - so, on second thought, Trep wonders if it isn't so ridiculous after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then the scent hits - strong, but familiar, exactly the scent that still drifts aimlessly off the yellow cloth Trep keeps tucked into a suit pocket. Trep looks up, and he follows his nose and his eyes as he searches for those signs that would tell him for sure. He doesn't have to look far. The other Impostor is casual, quiet - they are leaned back in their seat, one leg crossed over the other and arms lightly folded across their chest. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hot, angry, acidic bile boils suddenly in Trep's gut. His chest. This was the Impostor who had killed Addison, who had ruined </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything </span>
  </em>
  <span>- and if that wasn't bad enough, if that hadn't created a deep enough wound, this Impostor is no longer wearing the Yellow they'd used to sneak aboard Addison's crew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead, they are dressed in familiar red. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes all of Trep's willpower and then some not to launch himself across the dropship then and there. He curls his hands tight, feels his abdominal teeth complain as they press together with enough force to shatter human bones. It takes great effort, and most of the ascension, for Trep to bring himself back to a place of faux calm. He can't stop the heat inside of him, but he can function without immediately snapping and going for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Impostor's </span>
  </em>
  <span>neck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It's all he can ask of himself, now. </span>
</p>
<hr/>
<p>
  <span>"I thought your designation was yellow." Trep starts, when he finally gets the other Impostor alone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You must have gotten some old information," The Impostor answers with a careless shrug. "I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yellow up until a handful of missions ago. But then, I managed to take out an entire crew. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Alone. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I'd never done that before…so, I thought I'd celebrate my victory a little. Their captain was a fierce little human - so, after I killed him, I decided to use his color. Suits me, huh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>"You are not fit to be the bone he chews on," </span>
  </em>
  <span>Trep hisses all at once, the insult slipping from him in his natural tongue - violent and angry as fury rises hot in Trep's chest. The other Impostor stills at the sound, and he looks at Trep with confusion so clear it's near palpable. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What are you -" He's cut off as Trep simply can't stop himself anymore. He lunges at the other Impostor and takes him to the ground. He snarls a sound that echoes every rip and bubble his skin makes as he peels apart, shedding his human self entirely. He stabs massive claws clear through the other's flesh, and when he feels them strike the metal below, he drags them down - rips long rivulets clear through the other's body. The Impostor screeches in furious pain, but Trep does not stop. His abdominal tongue whips around - it slashes, and rips, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>severs </span>
  </em>
  <span>the Impostor's body. Teeth dig cavity after cavity into limp flesh as Trep destroys the creature who has ruined his life. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He is left in a world of blood and organs - a red haze so thick it seems to cover his eyes and block out the lights. He comes out of it slowly - drawn by the sounds of terrified screams. By the time Orange flees and then returns with the rest of the crew behind him, Trep is sitting in his human form. The Impostor's blood pools around him, and he dips his fingers in it casually as he watches the crew. They're terrified, nervous - one has some sort of electrified prod, even if they can't hold it well in their shaking grip. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I have no intention of hurting any of you," Trep says - and he is all calmness, now, still half-drifting in a state of contentment he hasn't felt since Addison was still alive. "Keep your eyes on me, your weapons ready - move from my path, and I will walk myself to the airlock."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>At first, they listen. As he stands they all but flinch away, and those that are armed draw their weapons a little closer. Slowly, carefully, Trep moves towards them - they part from his way as he passes. He is nearly to the airlock when one of them finally speaks. It's Pink, and their voice cracks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Hang on, he's not even - guys, wait, he just killed Red. Maybe he's -" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"When I get in that airlock, you will release it," Trep interrupts as he looks over his shoulder at the crewmates. "If you let me live, I will kill all of you." It is enough to quiet Pink's protests. Ignoring them once more, Trep looks forward and keeps walking. He walks into the airlock, hears the door hiss close behind him - but he doesn't look back. Instead, he looks out to the stars - to a vast, inky blackness littered with brilliant beads of light. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Somehow, when Trep thinks of fireflies and snow and even these same stars reflected off the surface of a still and silent pond - what he sees now doesn't seem half as bright. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trep is left waiting for a long few minutes. All the while he stands there, and he watches the universe. The humans, he can assume, are arguing among themselves - but somehow, he's sure they will get to the answer he wants. They do not know him - the bleeding hearts will be outnumbered by the practical.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"If it were you, I'd already be ice," Trep murmurs to himself. He swears there is a brush of warmth against his hand, and he chuckles softly at a sudden spark of indignance he does not think belongs to him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Before Trep can answer, the doors open with a rush of air that steals his oxygen and immediately floods his veins with cold. There is a moment - so, so brief - where Trep feels something like fear. It vanishes before he can think to analyze it, though, and left in its place is that same calmness he's been feeling since he started the hunt for Yellow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Even as his body undulates and then collapses - even as the chill coats every single atom with unshakeable ice - Trep feels a familiar warmth settle around him. It is the last thing he feels - and it is the only thing he has ever needed. </span>
</p>
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